


Drunken Proposal

by eliniel



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 11:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliniel/pseuds/eliniel
Summary: I used the "Cutthroat Fanfiction: ACOTAR Edition" generator and recieved Amren & Rhysand, one person has amnesia, and angst.Against Amren's wishes, the Inner Circle informs Rhysand of his drunken antics the previous night.





	Drunken Proposal

Amren woke up with a jerk. The curtains that usually hung over the window to block out the sun were propped open and tied with rope. The bright light made her squint and brought forth a headache among headaches. She held up a hand to shade her eyes and slowly made her way off the bed.

A flash from the night before passed through her mind.

_“C’mon Amren...don’t be such a spoil sport…”_

She scoffed, but the movement made her stomach roil.

What an unusual and incredibly uncomfortable feeling.

Amren felt whatever was left in her stomach climbing up her throat and she rushed for the small sink on the other side of the apartment. 

Leftover blood and remnants of the drinks she’d had last night splashed at the bottom of the sink as she retched. She gagged a couple of times more, but when nothing came out she stood up straight again and wiped her lips. 

Well, this was the first and the last time she was ever going to let them talk her into drinking spirits. Their- her- ridiculous behavior…

She frowned, trying not to recall what had happened last night, and went to go lay down again.

Later in the afternoon, Amren finally emerged from her apartment, bleary-eyed and grumpy. She found her way to the townhouse to meet with the others. The headache that plagued her in the morning had lightened a little after resting for a while longer, but a small thumping continued enough to agitate her. It occurred to her that the circle might have some kind of hangover remedy since they go out often.

Which is how she’d ended up here, even though she’d much rather avoid them for a week.

Amren walked into the antechamber and knocked on the front door. After a few seconds, it swung open on it’s own accord and she went in to see the others looking not much better than she. 

Cassian was sprawled across the big couch, a throw pillow laying over his face. Morrigan was sitting in a big armchair, leaning to one side, with her head in a hand. And Rhysand-

She quickly turned away from the High Lord, refusing to acknowledge his existence in the room. In the house. Maybe even in the world. At least for now.

“Well, aren’t you all just a lively bunch?” she said, refusing to let them see her acting the same way. 

A muffled groan broke through the fabric of the pillow sitting on top of the Illyrian’s head. 

“Where’s Azriel? Surely he can’t be any better off than the rest of you.”

“He’s in the kitchen making a remedy for us,” Mor offered.

“He can hold his liquor better than the rest of us so he’s on nanny duty,” came Rhysand’s voice from behind her. 

“Well, I’ll go see if he needs...help,” Amren said, warranting a suspicious look from Cassian, who lifted the cushion long enough to peer at her through squinted eyes.

The other two seemed to ignore the comment and she made her way into the other room where, sure enough, Az stood over a boiling pot, stirring the liquid inside. He glanced over at her, and then did a double take. 

Feeling a few hard thumps in her head, she sank into a chair at the small table sitting in the middle of the room. She put a hand to her forehead and when she looked up a few minutes later, the brooding Illyrian male was facing her, hands crossed, still holding the ladle. He had a wary expression on his face.

“Is there something you need?”

“Is that concoction ready yet?” Amren asked, nodding her head towards the stove. Azriel raised an eyebrow. “I would appreciate your….discretion.”

Without another word, the male turned his back to her again and turned off the burner. He ladled the steaming medicine into a bowl and handed it to her. She sniffed the liquid for a second before moving to drink it. Az threw out a hand to stop her, but she’d already downed it.

The remedy seared her throat as it made it’s way down to her stomach, and she hissed. Once the burning stopped, the relief in her head was near instant.

“Thank you.” Azriel nodded and began to spoon out the rest for their friends.

When the two left the kitchen, they discovered that the other three had migrated to the small dining room of the townhouse and were slumped over on the table. Silently, Az set the bowls down in front of the others as Amren took a place at the table across from Morrigan.

As they ate, the circle started to finally perk up. 

Before long, and to her embarrassment, they began joking about how badly she had held her liquor.

“We gave you the weakest drinks in the entire world and you still ended up stumbling everywhere,” Cassian said with a smile. Mor laughed.

“Yes and then Rhys-”

Amren shot the girl a look that had her stopping short.

“What?” Rhysand asked from the head of the table. “What did I do?”

“You don’t remember?” Cassian asked his friend.

“To be honest,” the High Lord started admitting. “I had so much to drink that I don’t remember anything. It’s all a complete blur.” Amren cleared her throat.

“Well, let’s keep-”

The General burst out laughing, drowning out her words.

“What is so funny?”

“So, there you were. I can’t explain why in the least, but you just chugged your drink down and asked Amren to dance-ow!”

From beneath the table, the little fae kicked the Illyrian next to her.

Rhys leaned forward, interested. He glanced at Amren with a smirk.

“And then?”

“We should just forget-”

“It was the most awkward thing I’ve ever seen,” Cassian continued, cutting her off once again. She sent a heated glare in his direction. As usual, the idiot ignored her. “She had no idea what to do- where to put her hands.”

“Is that all?” the High Lord asked as he sat back in his chair. 

“Well, no,” his friend added. “We don’t know what happened, but in the middle of the dance, she got pissed off. She stomped down on your feet pretty hard, called you a pig, and stumbled around the building until she found the exit.” He leaned an elbow on the table. “You looked upset and a little red when you returned to the table and sent Azriel to make sure she made it back to her place in one piece.”

They all looked at her.

Amren stared at the wood of the table, trying to ignore them.

The pressure of their eyes bearing down on her began to be too much and she felt heat rise up her neck and into her cheeks.

“It wasn’t-”

“Out with it, Tiny Ancient One,” Cassian said, interrupting her a third time.

She clenched her fists in her lap.

She did not like this business of talking about private affairs. 

She cleared her throat and looked up, trying to act as if the entire encounter hadn’t matter.

“He asked me to join him in his bed.”

The entire room was silent for a long moment.

And then Rhysand’s eyes widened and his face turned beet red.

Mor and Cassian started howling. Even Azriel looked like he was about to start laughing, with a rare, broad smile plastered across his face.

“Look at...how red...they both are!” Morrigan managed between laughs. 

Cass started gasping for breaths amidst his laughter around the same time Mor was wiping tears from her eyes.

“Very suave, cousin. Admirable.”

Entirely sick of their ridicule, Amren stood from the table in a movement sharp enough that the laughing stopped.

“When you lot are capable of acting like adults, I’ll be in my apartment.”

As she fled the townhouse for the quiet of her own home, she heard Cassian burst back into another fit of laughter again, and she smiled, faintly, closing the door behind her.


End file.
